


Cold Cold (Wo)man

by holyfudgemonkeys (erraticallyinspired)



Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst and Fluff and Smut, BDSM, Break Up, Colette is a decent person, Domme Colette Swanson, F/M, Getting Back Together, Malcolm Bright Whump, Malcolm Bright constantly putting himself in harm's way, Oral Sex, Past and Present POVs, Rope Bondage, Sub Malcolm Bright, Vaginal Sex, and she's hurting, like story scenes not bdsm scenes, the graphic violence warning is mostly there to cover potential scenes tbh, they just had a bad breakup
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-06
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:41:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21688516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erraticallyinspired/pseuds/holyfudgemonkeys
Summary: When it became clear that Malcolm was abducted, Colette was forced to confront three truths:1) She's never hated him. Not even after they broke up.2) She missed him.3) She was terrified of what could happen to him in Watkins' clutches.(Title inspired by "Cold Cold Man" by Saint Motel)
Relationships: Malcolm Bright/Colette Swanson
Comments: 18
Kudos: 64





	1. Oh, my love

**Author's Note:**

> Hi so yeah here's another Prodigal son fic. I really can't help myself...

## Present

He was delirious when they found him. 

She approached him first, thankfully having the authority that came with her position on the case, though she knew that as soon as the other team knew they found him, his three cop friends would push her aside without a thought. 

He whimpered as he realized someone was there. His chains rattled as he scrabbled back. 

Holstering her gun, she tiptoed forward and knelt in front of him. “Bright,” she murmured, reaching out with both hands. “Bright, it’s Swanson. _Colette_.”

He hesitantly let her encompass his shaking hands with her own. His eyes couldn’t focus on her.

She turned her head slowly as not to scare him. “ETA on the ambulance?” 

Her second in command grimaced and made the call. 

With a glare that promised a reprimand, she focused on Malcolm again. One of his hands was mangled and crusted with blood. Both wrists had burns from pulling against the handcuffs. His feet were scratched and bruised. Most worryingly, the side of his shirt was stiff and red black instead of blue. She rubbed soothing circles into the back of his hands and tried to keep calm.

## Past

The first time Colette met Malcolm, she was _sure_ he was a rich boy asshole. 

His clothes were impeccable, and he wore them with an ease that only came from growing up in such fine things. He smiled at her and introduced himself when prompted, but otherwise he seemed to ignore her, looking anywhere but her eyes and only initiating conversation once or twice awkwardly. When they were asked to give their profiles together, he both supported and contradicted hers with arrogance.

He was _irritating_.

Which was why she didn’t recognize him in the club. Not at first.

Being relatively new in the area, she hadn’t had the time to scope out the clubs yet and establish herself until she settled professionally. The club she went to first was one recommended to her by another domme she knew from her last job. She bought a glass of wine at the bar. Tonight would be for getting a feel for the DC community. She wouldn’t drink much, but a glass of red would go a long way in relaxing her enough to enjoy some of the scheduled scenes with an unfamiliar crowd.

The first was all about sensory deprivation. The dom eased the sub into a hanging harness and blindfolded her. Colette could see a peek of earplugs through the woman’s hair. He teased her for a long time, using a set of tools set out on a table for his use, including crops and candles, until she was begging for him. He rewarded her with a screaming orgasm. Shortly after, he carried her off to an area with couches for aftercare, and Colette felt reasonably assured of the safety of the club. 

Her shoulders relaxed. The next scene she’d be able to enjoy more. 

It started roughly twenty minutes later, though the anticipation had long since been roused with the setting up of the equipment. The first dom’s tools were replaced with a bottle of lube and a box of condoms, his harness making way for a basic bed with built in restraints. Simple, but promising. When the players finally appeared, two men and a woman, it was clear that one of the men was the only sub of the group. He was already blindfolded and pliant, allowing the domme to lead him to the bed without a fuss. She arranged him on the bed and gently but firmly set his wrists into the leather cuffs while her male counterpart inspected the lube. 

He brought it over to the bed eventually and hoisted the sub’s legs up onto his shoulders for better access without pause. Both men were already hard, but Colette could see how the sub’s dick twitched and leaked as the dom began preparing him ever so slowly. He probably would have cried out, too, if not for the domme giving him two of her fingers to suck on. They might as well have been another dick with the way he treated them. He looked as if he was getting high on their attentions. Together, the other two teased the sub until it looked like he would come untouched, and when the dom finally slipped a condom on and eased into him, he _did_. He keened around the domme’s fingers and clawed at the bed.

Colette’s breath hitched. There was _something_ about this sub that was getting to her.

The domme pulled her fingers out of his mouth and used them to rub her clit. He groaned something unintelligible, which prompted her to laugh before she moved closer and settled over his face. His toes clenched from where they were over the dom’s shoulders. His dick twitched again, slowly hardening again. _Clearly_ he was enjoying his scene. 

His dom and domme patiently worked him over until he was once again squirming against the restraints and leaking all over his stomach. They seemed content to pull it out as long as possible.

But then the domme cried out, grinding down on his face as she came. The dom seemed to take it as his cue and picked up the pace, hands firm on slim hips as he slammed their bodies together, until the sub was audibly _wailing_ into her sensitive pussy and coming untouched once again. With a few more thrusts, the whole show was over. 

The dom removed his condom and moved to clean the sub up with some towels another dom brought up for him, while the domme settled next to the sub at the top of the bed and pet his head as they both rode out the aftershocks. She released the cuffs after moment, rubbing his wrists gently. Together, the dom and domme pulled him up to a sitting position and guided his arms into a soft robe. 

The dom removed the blindfold then, and Colette stilled. She _knew_ those eyes. They were just as intense as they had been earlier in the day, though it was tempered by hazy bliss now. 

The sub was Malcolm Bright.

She barely noticed the dom and domme leading him off to a couch, where they laid him across their laps. She never would have thought Bright, of all people, would submit so _beautifully_. He was arrogant and rude. Of course, Colette knew that being a sub didn’t necessarily mean being submissive all day, but as a profiler, something was still bothering her. 

The man and woman giving him aftercare were always touching him, smiling when he leaned into their touches. They stroked his loose hair and kissed his hands.

— And then she remembered the way his hands had shaken that morning. At first it seemed to be an obvious tell for his anger. She had, after all, stepped up after his profile to reinforce her own, and she knew from personal experience that that often pissed people off. 

But now she wasn’t so sure. He was so… boneless on their laps that she could tell he must have been tense the entire time they were at the bureau. Maybe it hadn’t been all arrogance. 

Either way, Colette was sure of one thing — she wanted Malcolm as her sub, if only for one scene.


	2. I know I am a cold, cold (wo)man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Colette makes her approach

## Present

As predicted, Lieutenant Arroyo swept her aside with a look as soon as he came in, Detectives Powell and Tarmel on his heels, though only the latter seemed content to let the Lieutenant take lead. Arroyo held Bright’s hands carefully, cursing at the damage. Powell, on the other hand, brushed his hair back and inspected his face. Although Tarmel was keeping his distance, she could tell he was cataloguing all of the visible injuries. Bright himself looked bereft without her there but was calming down somewhat as he registered the familiar voices.

Colette forcibly reminded herself that _she_ was the one to break things off. Bright’s team had first shot at making sure he was okay. She needed to be professional here, even if Powell’s clear fondness Bright made her jaw tight. 

(They weren’t involved. They _couldn’t_ be. Malcolm had a rule about getting involved with coworkers, and although he’d broken it for her, she knew that their explosive parting only served to reinforce it.)

The three detectives stuck close to him as the EMTs got him onto a stretcher and made their way back to the ambulance. Both she and Arroyo, being the two team leads, couldn’t go with him to the hospital even though they were arguably the closest people to him on the scene. Powell climbed in the back instead, with a nod to her boss.

Colette turned to oversee her team’s evidence collection.

## Past

For the first month, she hung back and observed, mentally putting a profile of sorts together. Malcolm participated in a scene once a week, though not always on the same day, and his partners varied some but were clearly familiar to him, people he trusted even. The man she saw at work was awkward and cold with agents he hadn’t worked with before. The sub she watched in the club was putty in the hands of whatever dom or domme he was with. He followed their commands almost instinctually, and he was painfully eager, too. Unlike the coworkers who avoided him unless necessary, his partners doted on him for as long as he would allow post scene, which both baffled _and_ aroused her. She shivered thinking about him boneless across her lap, looking up at her with those vivid eyes. 

She especially thought about this the day after his scenes, because, without fail, he was calmer, more settled. It wasn’t obvious if you weren’t looking for it. Colette, however, couldn’t help but look. 

So she had a preliminary profile. Malcolm Bright was a sub. He craved the release submission gave him, and she had a suspicion part of that was the effect it had on his overactive mind. At work, he was anything but submissive. He was determined and stubborn and would gladly toe the line if he thought his superiors were being stupid, but in the club the stakes were lowered, and he allowed himself to ease into submission and the comfort it provided him. 

He was no masochist, though sometimes he liked to be paddled. Mostly, he liked to be edged and denied, to give pleasure as he received it. He was flexible, too, both physically and sexually, and she suspected he was bisexual, based on his partners. 

Overall, Colette thought she had a shot. The only potential problem was that they were coworkers. She couldn’t predict how he would react, as she’d never seen any of their coworkers flirt with him as of yet.

But if there was one thing people said about Colette Swanson, it was that if she wanted something, she went for it. 

She approached him a month after the first time she saw him in the club. He was loose and comfortable after his latest scene and a good hour of cuddling aftercare, and when the bartender poured him a finger of the expensive brandy he indulged in on such nights and told him it was courtesy of a domme, he lifted his glass in a vague direction as if to toast the buyer. 

“If it’s a toast you want,” she said, slipping into the seat next to him, “I’ll take that drink with you.”

Malcolm didn’t startle, though she almost wished he had. Instead, he looked at her out of the corner of his eye and took a sip. He’d known she was in the club. “And here I thought we were ignoring each other.”

“Maybe you were.” She tipped the bartender when he offered her her usual wine. “I was enjoying the show.”

He watched her savor her drink for a moment, and she let him. “Why are you here, Colette?”

“I prefer Mistress,” she said bluntly and took another sip. 

“Do you?” He let his glass sit where it was.

“You shouldn’t waste such a good brandy.”

He looked amused. “I tend not to enjoy brandy when it comes with strings attached.” 

“No strings,” she promised. “Just an invitation.” This was what she’d hoped for. She knew he was a curious man and that an invitation from _her_ of all people would arouse that curiosity. If he chose to pursue it, she would have a chance to convince him to let her be his domme, if only once.

“What are you offering that I can't already get?” He picked up the brandy again.

She repressed a smirk. He _was_ receptive to her. “We’re both profilers,” she said simply. “And I’ve been observing you.” She wanted him to come to his own conclusions.

He stared at her in that piercing way he looked at suspects sometimes. “You think you know me better than any of my other partners, don't you?”

“Would you like to find out?”

## Present

One of the privileges she enjoyed as the lead of the investigation was that visiting hours didn’t apply to her, and there was no one above her to tell her ‘no’, though she suspected that Arroyo and his team would have some choice words for her if they knew she was visiting Bright’s hospital room at 1am. As it is, Malcolm himself wasn’t in the shape to really question why she was there after their breakup, but she _needed_ to see him. Needed to make sure he was okay.

He was sleeping fitfully. His arms were restrained on her order, because she knew he would only blame himself if one of the nurses got too close during one of his nightmares. He’d always been wary about her being in the same bed while he slept, even with the cuffs and her training. (She had, in fact, taken him down more than once in her sleep when his nightmares kicked up.) 

The hospital had drawn the line at the mouth guard, however, and so he groaned and whimpered as he shifted, muttering something beneath his breath. She brushed his hair behind his ear and cupped his cheek. Leaning into it, his face eased some.

“You’re safe,” she said quietly but firmly. She wasn't sure who she was trying to reassure. “I found you, Malcolm.”


	3. Quite slow to pay you compliments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the present, Colette tries to cope.
> 
> In the past, she and Malcolm have their first scene together.

## Present

Toeing off her heels, Colette revelled in the feeling of the cool floorboards under her feet. The Bureau had rented them accommodations with the thought that the case would likely take a while to solve, and not for the first time, she was happy to not be in a hotel room. Sure, she shared the space with other agents from her team, but this room was hers. No maids would be coming in. No wake up calls. Not even her team would disturb her so late at night, unless there was an emergency. 

She shrugged her jacket off and unbuttoned her blouse but didn’t bother to remove it. She was dead tired. Her day was filled with pouring over the case. They’d just _barely_ managed to catch John Watkins, and although they had enough evidence to detain him, the truth was that many of his victims were yet unknown. Now their job would be trying to get as much information from him as possible and then verifying it. So far he seemed content to watch them run around him.

Some of her night was spent with the case, too. She looked over the information they had on the bodies from the junkyard and tried to piece something together, to keep herself awake and away from the hospital until an unreasonable hour, when she could finally slip into Malcolm’s room and see that he was in good hands herself. She’d spent nearly an hour there earlier that night, watching his vitals to assure herself that he was okay and soothing any nightmares she could. It made her feel… useful. There was no way she was catching all of them, of course. He’d told her once about being sedated — about how it didn’t suppress the terrors he dreamt about, just trapped him in them. At the time, he’d trusted her enough to be his medical contact. She no longer had that permission, and whoever did had evidently agreed that he should be lightly sedated for his injuries. 

Now that she was finally back in her rented room once more, she let the tears flood her eyes, blinking until they slowly began to fall, bringing with them the slight burn and headache that always followed. Colette wasn’t in the habit of crying on the job, had done her best _not_ to, in fact, but it seemed Malcolm had a way of bringing it out of her sometimes. She sat on the edge of the bed for a few minutes drowning in the feeling.

Then, with steady strides, she went to the small closet on the other side of the room and opened her suitcase. Wrapped carefully in a towel was a bottle of wine. It was unopened and had been that way for nearly two years at that point, having been a rather expensive gift from Malcolm that she first couldn’t bring herself to open and later to throw away, but she didn’t care any longer. She knew without opening it that she would love it. He always knew what she would like, almost better than she did herself. His taste in wine, especially, was top notch. Had the bottle not cost a fortune, she would have long since consumed it, but despite their previous relationship, she’d never gotten used to the wealth he was born into. It led her to hesitate whenever she saw the bottle. Even at her worst, when she was convinced that she _despised_ him, she couldn’t make herself shatter it against the wall. Now, she was glad for it. 

Pulling a corkscrew from another pocket of the suitcase, Colette carefully removed the cork and took in the aroma that wafted out. It was a dry red. She sipped it right from the bottle and wished he was there with her.

## Past

Malcolm sat across from her at the table. It was much too big of a table for a single man who kept mostly to himself, but she supposed that it made sense given the rest of his apartment. It was fully furnished with matching pieces in styles that, in combination with the sheer size of the place in comparison to her own, were clearly not the kind someone with a small budget would buy. He had recommended his apartment for this discussion on account of its size and privacy. They could talk there in the kitchen, a relatively neutral space, and not worry about being overheard. 

Even Colette herself agreed it was the best place. Her apartment, while not cramped, was small enough that she had, on at least one occasion each, played out part of scene in every room. Malcolm claimed he hadn’t brought anyone back to his place. _For a scene_ , he clarified. Neither of them had any associations there.

He passed her a piece of paper. “These are my boundaries. Until we know each other better, I’d rather we didn’t explore any of the kinks I’m neither interested in nor opposed to.”

She skimmed it. “You’re open to trying them in the future?” Not that he wasn’t open to many things. In fact, a good deal of her own kinks were on his good-to-go list. 

“Provided we continue to scene together.”

“You sound sure we will,” she observed.

He smirked, and for once, it didn’t annoy her. (Quite the opposite, actually.) “You watched me for _weeks_ , Colette. I think our wants and needs will align well enough.” 

She looked him over and returned the smirk. “Did you like it when I watched you, Bright?”

“It’s Malcolm outside of the Bureau.” He paused and looked her directly in the eyes with that piercing gaze of his. That was on his list. He preferred to be called by his first name only. Being called ‘boy’ was especially high in the ‘no’ column. “ _Mistress_.”

“If we were already in an agreement,” she said slyly, “I would have paddled you for that sass.”

(Paddling was high on his ‘yes’ list, and she knew she had just the right one for him back at home in her closet.)

“I imagine you’d do a lot more than that. Would you like some wine while you finish reading?” He pulled back on the flirting, though his demeanor wasn’t cold.

She missed that playfulness, but they really should finish their discussion before they jumped into anything. “Red, if you have it. Dry.” 

They eased into their first scene a few days later. She opened the door at his knock and showed him where to leave his coat and shoes. Then she got him a glass of water.

“Are you sure about this, Malcolm?”

He took a slow sip of his water, eyes on hers the whole time. “Yes, Mistress.” 

She nodded and looked him over. “You’re wearing too many layers. When you’re finished with your water, I want you to go to the bathroom and undress. It’s the first door in the hall behind me.” Her voice was calm. “Fold your clothes neatly and then continue on to the last door.”

He grinned. “Yes, Mistress.”

Without a backwards glance, she moved to the last door, her bedroom, herself. If he had any second thoughts, he could leave now, and she wanted to make sure he had the opportunity. He could leave at any time, of course, but whatever this could do to their professional relationship would be in motion the second she saw him stripped of his protective layers. 

She undressed as well. Her lingerie stayed on, as she’d been ready for him before he arrived. They were classic black, lacy, and clung perfectly to her. It felt fitting for their first encounter. Next she went to her drawers and pulled out a length of good quality rope, which she left on the edge of the bed, and a cock ring. She let the silicone warm in her hands, content to take this scene as easy as possible. 

A few minutes later, Malcolm walked into the bedroom. He obviously followed her orders, because he was completely nude. He stood still as she took him in, though she could see his hands shaking ever so slightly. She was impressed. He had warned her he could be quite a brat but promised to be good for their test run. 

Colette sat down next to the length of rope. “Come here, Malcolm.”

He walked over and, without hesitation, knelt down on the ground in front of her. 

“Are you going to be good for me?”

“Yes, Mistress.” 

She smirked. “That’s what I was hoping to hear. Hands behind your back. We’re going to be doing some rope bondage today.” They had talked about everything prior to the scene, so he knew exactly what she would be doing, but she _loved_ to talk to her subs. “But first, will you stay that way while I put this on?” She let him see the cock ring as she lubed it up. 

Malcolm shifted his arms into position, each hand loosely gripping the other arm near the elbow. “Yes, Mistress.”

Kneeling in front of him, she gently took ahold of his hardening dick and eased the silicone ring onto it, careful not to stimulate him too much before it was on right. 

He groaned when she let go of him.

She trailed her fingers along his shoulder in appreciation as she moved behind him with the rope. Her plan was to tie him up with a basic box tie this time. Nothing particularly intricate, but it would keep his arms out of the way just fine. “First I’m going to wrap the rope around your arms to keep them snug together,” she told him, doing just that. She wrapped it around twice and then knotted it firmly but in such a way that it could be unraveled with ease. “And now along your upper chest.” Pulling the long end around his left arm a few inches below the shoulder, she embraced him from behind so that she could reach around and grab it with her right hand. 

He shuddered as she pressed up against his back, her breath puffing against the crook of his neck. 

“And around again,” she murmured against his skin before pulling back just enough to repeat the process. The long end of the rope was tucked around the previous lines of it wrapped around him to anchor it. “Now a little lower.” She wrapped the rope down a few inches along the line. It was the same process as the first wrap around his upper chest, though he didn’t react as strongly to the contact this time. “One more.” She repeated the steps again with a line right along the bottom of his pecs. Finally, she tucked the ends of the rope around until they were no longer hanging loose and then stood up and moved to sit back on the bed. 

Malcolm was breathing slowly, calmly. His gaze held a hint of a haze as he gently tested the bonds, but he looked up at her expectantly. 

“You’ve been very good for me so far,” Colette said. “I think it’s time I rewarded you.”

His cock twitched a little, fully hard by then. “Yes, _please_ ,” he breathed out.

“Good, Malcolm.” Spreading her legs, she allowed him to see that her panties were crotchless. 

He swallowed thickly and looked up into her eyes.

“Come here.”

He shuffled to her. 

“You know what to do.” She caressed the nape of his neck as she guided his face to where she wanted it most, and he melted into the touch, into _her_ as he immediately began teasing her with the tip of his tongue. “That’s it, Malcolm.”

His groan was muffled by her lips. He licked at her throbbing clit.

Her thighs tightened around his head and her nails dug into his scalp. “Around my clit,” she ordered. “I want you to bring me to the edge and keep me there.”

Obediently, his tongue strayed away to trace circles around it instead. 

She rode his face, thighs holding him in place, until it became unbearable. “Now,” she said firmly and cried out as he sucked directly on her clit as the waves of her orgasm hit.

Finally, when the overstimulation became too much, she eased his head away and took in his dazed face, her slick all over his mouth and chin. His cock was even harder than before he started,straining against the cock ring. Colette slid smoothly off the edge of the bed and eased the ring off before beginning to stroke him firmly. 

He keened and let his head fall onto her shoulder as his body shook and his dick twitched in her palm and then — he gasped as he painted her stomach with his come, his body drooping into hers.

“So good for me,” she said and ran her fingers through his hair. “Such a good sub.” 

And he was. She knew he would be after watching his scenes in the club, but now that she knew firsthand how well he could submit, how much he wanted to _please_ , she began to realize that once would not be enough. 

Colette wanted him again.

## Present

She wedged the cork back into the bottle to preserve the last half. It was 3am then, and as much as part of her wanted to finish it, she knew that she needed to be up bright and early. Tomorrow (later that day, to be more accurate) they would be checking in with Bright’s doctors to see if they thought he would finally be coherent enough for questioning. Arroyo and his team were sure to make a fuss, but it was necessary. She needed to know everything Malcolm knew so that they could make sure Watkins stayed behind bars. However he found the killer was important, and the sooner they knew, the better.

Besides, it was time she could visit him while he was still awake and not sedated.

She finished undressing and fell into bed, thinking of warmer times.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this ended up twice as long as I planned somehow. Most chapters will likely still be about 1,000 words in the future, but I couldn't push off their first scene any longer!
> 
> (also if anyone reading this also reads It Takes a Village, that one is next to be updated. I just had the urge to write this chapter out first)

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think!
> 
> Btw, for anyone who reads my other fics, I'm planning on updating A Minor Divergence next, followed by It Takes A Village.


End file.
